


Pink and Red and I

by javelyn (orphan_account)



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album)
Genre: Gen, Mentions of Blood, Minor Swearing, minor character death through suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22603960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/javelyn
Summary: A sort of a summary story for my killjoy OC, Sunshine Volt.
Kudos: 1





	Pink and Red and I

**Author's Note:**

> It took me 45 minutes to write this so you can tell it's kind of a "take a load off your brain" fic but I mean it's fine I guess.

There was once a time where the world lacked color. People saw nothing but grey and they were happy that way. No depressing blues, no eye-stinging neons, and no worries about whether or not those delightfully slutty denim shorts were going to match the color of your t-shirt. It was all predetermined. No concern about the colors that complemented your body shape, no more worrying about what you were going to repaint the walls of your living room, and no more worrying about whether or not the color of your swimming pool could tell you if it was fit for living creatures to be inside of it. 

A world without pink was a world without me in it, I thought as a little girl. This was what I thought after BL/ind took control in 2010. I remembered a little bit of the time with color, with life. I missed pink sorely, but I got over it because I looked at my father, a S/c/a/r/e/c/r/o/w, and I saw a man who wasn’t allowed to be upset about anything. He was meant to do his job and nothing else. Pink was to be left in the past and I took my pills like a good little girl and went on my way. Pink was no longer in my cheeks when I was called out by my classmates for feeling like pink when an ultra-cute boy touched my shoulder. Efficiency was key, they said. Feelings get in the way of that, they said.

I began to crave pink like it was heroin. Not a single minute went by without me wanting pink, to wear it on my clothes, to paint it on paper, to see it in the sky when the sun died each night and was reborn in the morning. It got too much. I woke up during the night seeing it in my dreams. I desired to be free from a world without pink. I pictured it in my head as a rose at midnight and packed my bags. I pictured Pornodroids with pink hair walking down the streets, waiting to reluctantly serve their purpose. I pictured the signs of corner stores to be pink. When I snuck my way from the city and into the desert, everything seemed pink to me. I knew that I was putting myself in danger out here. People weren’t allowed to escape. They were supposed to be calm and obedient.

The pills were starting to wear off. For the rest of the day, I felt all kinds of emotions. In the morning I felt scared. In the afternoon I felt happy to be free. In the evening I felt good and dangerous. I laughed at the idea of ripping someone's heart straight out of their chest with my own teeth. I nearly cried with joy when I killed my first Drac with the gun I robbed from a body bag on the ground. I saw her blood on the ground and it was red. A beautiful, deep shade of red. Red became my new best friend. She and pink guided me through this hell. 

The next day I made my first true friend. His name was Joshua. He had escaped just like me. I’m not gonna lie, at first I thought he was a pussy who had no business being out here, but then I realized we were in the same boat, so I shut my trap and walked on. Joshua and I spent the next few days wandering in the landscape until we found a house. A small, adorable little house. It looked strangely familiar. Inside was two people. Maddison and Alex. Killjoys, as I later learned these desert dwellers were called. I felt proud of being a Killjoy. It made me feel like I was part of some club. I loved the idea of being brave vigilantes determined to take down those who had taken colors and life away from us. I loved that I could fight for pink. I fought hard and I got more dangerous. I wasn’t Jennifer McKain anymore. I was Sunshine Volt. I didn’t notice when I got in over my head. I wanted to fight firsthand against the one who had started all of this. I ran headfirst into the city and in The Director's way. She was an imposing woman. My face burns pink with shame when I think about how I was so foolishly brave to face her. She kicked the shit out of me. I nearly died there and when she and her goons dumped me in the desert and drove away. She told me she wanted to leave a warning to every other Killjoy out there. My mangled body should suffice. 

I woke up the next day on a sorry excuse for a couch in a house I didn’t remember. There were a teenage boy and his mom living there. His name was Emerald Ammo, and his mom was Bullet Burst. They told me that my name was big news these days for facing The Director. Everyone thought she was a moron for letting me live, but they were pleased she did it. They took care of me and I got close to Emerald really fast. The fifth week in he had told me his name was Micah Dresden when he told me he had a massive crush on me. He said he understood if I didn’t want to date him since we lived in a wasteland and were always near death. I responded by kissing him. Tongue-included. 

The next day he and I stole his mother's car and drove off to meet his best friend, Nicotine. I never got her last name. She was sort of this leader of a group of pathetic little crack heads who wanted to go out with a bang. She wanted to get herself a battery for a Pornodroid she found in Zone 1 so she could interrogate it. I thought she was batshit insane. Micah thought it was a wonderful idea. So we went, all thirty of us. Only nine made it back, the battery in tow. The Pornodroid woke up when we put in the battery and refused to tell us anything. She just cried and cried and stole my gun right from my hip and shot herself in the head. Nicotine looked like she was about to explode when she realized this suicide mission had been for absolutely nothing. Her eyes were twitching and everything. It was scary. She screamed and ranted for what seemed like hours to the point where she literally threw up on the floor. All we could do was just watch her spill her guts and try not to grieve. Micah and I headed back to his house in Zone 1 and it was terribly quiet. We walked into a pool of the red I loved so much and Bullet Burst lying on the floor dead. I just stood there, shocked, while Micah sobbed and I realized that Red was a pair of identical twins. The twin I would die for was the one that seeped from Dracs and anyone BL/ind related. The twin I would rather die than have to see again was the one that surrounded Bullet and the 21 people that had died on that crazy-ass mission Micah insisted on going on. I wanted to go home so bad. I wish I could see Reese, my sister, and my mom and dad, too. Even if they were against everything I was for, it was a safe place and the pills gave them the illusion of loving me.

Micah and I eventually drove away, going nowhere in particular. There were Dracs up ahead. He kept driving toward them. I screamed at him to stop. He wouldn’t listen. He killed the engine right in plain view of the Dracs and stepped out of the car. I scrambled into the front seat and tried to yank the keys out of his hands and persuade him to get back inside before they started shooting but he just stared at them. “It’ll be okay, Jenny. Relax,” was all he said before the Drac took the shot and he fell to the ground. They walked closer toward me, brandishing their guns. I prayed for pink to come into the sky and bring death upon grey. I prayed that the Red I loved would show herself and I would survive. I took a shot at the two of them. I missed. 

The Red I hated flowed from my head, dancing to the echo of the gunshot that had taken my life. Yet I was still in the same place. More people appeared behind me. They wouldn’t stop multiplying. They were wearing these stupid black and white costumes. I heard music that was brave and angry and dragged me away from the desert and onto a street. There wasn’t a single speck of pink or red anywhere. Just grey again. Yet the music made me feel red and pink again. It did the trick.


End file.
